Hope
by feralandfree
Summary: Sherlock and Molly have a little conversation about their feelings and how they came to understand them. A post-Valentine's day gift for any Sherlolly fans, enjoy!


A/N

A little post-Valentine's Day conversation. I decided to only use dialogue for this one, to keep it "raw", in a way. I dedicate this to all the lovely and kind people who have read and reviewed "The Valley of Boxes", I wrote it with them in mind.

I hope you enjoy this little peek into Sherlok and Molly's chat.

Feral

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"When did you know?"

"April 29th, 5 years ago, at 10:12 am."

"Really?"

"No! Sherlock, I was joking. You know, you're usually so good at reading people, I used to get so embarrassed because I thought you were fully aware of it as soon as I was! "

"I had not idea, Molly; not until Christmas..."

"Let's not talk about that. No, really, Sherlock, it's fine. It's OK! So, when did I know...I can't remember the exact date. It was just a normal day, a couple of months after you started showing up at Barts."

"Ever since way back then?"

"Hey, do you want me to tell you or not?"

"I apologise. Please continue."

"It's not my fault it took you so much to catch up, anyway...Right, so, where was I? We were in the morgue and you were pestering me for a spleen while I was inspecting a body of a scuba diver. She had been brought in after an embolism due to rising to the surface too quickly during a dive. It had been labelled an accident."

"I remember that case, it was simple, boring child's play."

"You happened to glance at a picture of her when she was in her suit, and noticed the weights had been latched on the wrong way."

"An advanced diver would not have made such a mistake, but her diving buddy was finishing his Open Waters course...He had obviously latched it on posthumously, because otherwise she would have done it herself or at the least corrected the mistake. The only reason for putting the weights back on was to conceal some foul play. The fact that such a simple clue was ignored is a sad testimony of Britain's woeful lack of education in the Science of Deduction. It amazes me that...I'm sorry, Molly. You were saying..."

"It's all right. When you saw the picture, you slowly turned and looked at me, just for a moment, with those eyes of yours, before suddenly rushing to her, tearing the sheet away and inspecting her whole body for any small mark."

"He had injected her with an air syringe under water and unhooked her weights. The woman tried to return to the surface as slowly as she could, but an embolism was unavoidable. The murderer latched on the weights again and hoped her death would be simply considered the result of decompression sickness."

"You said as much and I helped you look for that tiny puncture wound. When you found it you pointed it out to me like it were an Easter egg, you were so happy... You smiled at me... Then you ran off, and I was left with a white sheet in my hand and...And I just knew. Oh don't look so smug!"

"Smug? I'm actually almost disappointed it was such a puerile case that won your love, I expected you to have better standards, Molly."

"Well, that's my bit, anyway, so now it's your turn. When did you know? Don't make that face, you asked me and I told you, now it's your turn. That's how it works. No, you're not getting out of this. Come on! Where do you think you're going?"

"Can I have my arm back, please?"

"No! Sherlock, I'm not letting go until you tell me! Actually, wait...That's better."

"Molly, wrapping your leg over mine isn't going to make much difference: you know I could free myself in one third of a second."

"Yes I know that, but I also know you won't."

"Get off."

"No!"

"In one move I could have you pinned to the floor."

"Is that a promise? No! You're sidetracking me, it's not going to work. Well...You'll show me later. For now I just want to hear your bit. Come on, Sherlock...Please? Please? Please?"

"We've resorted to poking, now, have we?"

"When did you know? When did you know? When did you know?"

"To think, there was a time you barely had the courage to talk to me."

"When did you know?"

"Fine! It was the time I got shot."

"Which one?"

"At Magnussen's office."

"Oh..."

"Don't look so sad, Molly, I'm here and I'm fine, aren't I? You get so sentimental sometimes. As I was saying, the moment I was shot my mind started working to ensure my survival. Now, I never told you this, but within my mind palace I sometimes see people, as my subconscious projects them and associates them with different parts of myself. I have tried to correct this intrusion, but I seem to function and elaborate information better with this system so it is currently still in place."

"Who do you see?"

"It depends, but everyone represents a specific aspect or archetype. My brother, for example, is the symbol of logic and deduction, Mrs Hudson is the Hearth, and John is...John. I also have a projection for my baser desires, and one for my demons...The thing that intrigued me the time I was shot is that the very first person that appeared was you."

"Really? I was in your Mind Palace? Am I your medical knowledge?"

"That's what I thought, at first. I told myself you were presented as the scientific side of me, but that has always been Anderson despite my best efforts to replace him, furthermore your presence went beyond medicine and science."

"Survival instinct?"

"No, the times you were absent were not consistent with that theory, either. I always marvel at how soft your hands are, Molly...Why are they cold? Here, I'll warm them... Is that better? Good, keep them here, then. No, the only way to understand what you represented was to remember what I lost when you were out of the picture, when I was done fighting...When I had given up."

"Oh, Sherlock..."

"That's when I realised my mind had made you the incarnation of something I didn't even know I had, something I always believed to be a foolish crutch, an opium for optimists and a lie for victims. When found out what you represented, what you meant to me, Molly...

That's when I knew."


End file.
